


trivial conversation

by violencetomyfeelings



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Awkwardness, M/M, Power Imbalance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:01:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21852613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violencetomyfeelings/pseuds/violencetomyfeelings
Summary: Washington knew full well that sleeping with his aides was poor form, but between Hamilton's clumsy seductions and his own frustration, he had given into temptation.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/George Washington
Comments: 2
Kudos: 60





	trivial conversation

Washington knew full well that sleeping with his aides was poor form, but between Hamilton's clumsy seductions and his own frustration, he had given into temptation. (He told himself that the risk was minimal with Hamilton: after all, the boy had everything to lose, and even if he did take it into his head to spread a rumor, few would care to listen to a bastard orphan from the islands)

He emptied himself into Hamilton with a groan of satisfaction, the tension and gloom he perpetually carried with him easing a little. his mind blessedly free of the gloom of war. Life wasn't so very terrible. The boy keened beautifully beneath him, skilled and surprisingly pliable. He withdrew and caught his breath, sitting heavily in his armchair, wiping himself off and reaching for his pipe. It wasn't until it was lit between his lips that it occurred to him that Hamilton was unusually quiet. He turned his attention back to him and found him staring at him, sitting uncertainly on the bed, looking extraordinarily vulnerable. It was the way he held his own shin, and blushed when their eyes met, his gaze skittering down to his toes before he firmed and looked at him again.

How old was the boy, twenty, nineteen? He looked younger just then, too young, and Washington had the fleeting thought that he might be one of those who lie about their age in order to serve- but no, he couldn't be. He was too experienced and self-assured.

Except in this, it would seem.

The boy licked his lips and opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. He rose from the bed in jerky movements and began to gather his clothes. His cheeks were flushed, his gaze on the floor. Washington could see the faintest tremor in his hands. He sighed. This could not be allowed. 

'Alexander, stay a while.'

The boy froze and turned to him, his gaze searing. Washington patted the seat beside him and waited for him to join him, weary of the thought of trying to put the boy at ease when all he wished for was peace, but finding the uncomfortable tension contagious.

He sighed again and passed Hamilton some tobacco. He would need to find some topic of conversation, he realized with a sinking sensation, for though Hamilton took his offering, he did not relax. 

He glanced over again and found the boy fidgeting a little, his eyes darting around.

His gaze lingered on the window for a moment. 

'I believe there is a heatwave coming.' was all he could think of to say.

Hamilton shot him a look that was ... amused, almost. He frowned.

'I suppose so, sir. The men will be grateful for the river,' he said with careful diffidence, licking his lips. 'There will be disease,' he added gloomily.

Washington placed his brow in his hand, the momentary escape from the burdens of war fleeing him .

Damn that boy.

He sucked in another breath through his pipe. Hamilton still fidgeted.

'I'm sorry, This should not have occurred.' he admitted finally, and Hamilton knew exactly of what he spoke, for he became as rigid as stone.

'Sir-'

There was a dread in his expression, and Washington wondered how he could have blundered into this.

'It is my own fault, colonel- Alexander, I simply... fell into temptation. I will not hold it against you in any way.'

Hamilton had opened his mouth to speak, to interrupt, but he didn't, and when Washington finished his mouth snapped shut instead, as he stared at him for a moment too long, his mind at work, his eyes boring through Washington in a way that should not be allowed in one so young, not when it so put him off his footing.

'Temptation, sir?' the boy asked tentatively, something sly in his lips.

Washington could only nod, and to his surprise, Hamilton smiled.

Whatever the boy was thinking, he could not tell. But at the very least he no longer seemed a frightened colt. In fact, Washington could see the way his shoulders set and his hands unclenched, and his smile grew only more delighted.

He stood. 'Well, sir, I will tempt you no further today,' he said sweetly, and went once more to take his clothes. He was not running away this time at least, so Washington was happy to let him go. Their conversation had been awkward enough already.

'Thank you for the tobacco, sir. Goodnight,'

He smiled that smile again, one that seemed as if they shared a secret, and left with without a word on Washington's part, though his gaze followed his every movement. He was not sure exactly what conclusion the boy had drawn, but he was reaching his own: this would surely happen again, and he could not bring himself to regret it.


End file.
